Date Rape

On Saturday night my housemates and I all sat at home, casually consuming date rape drugs and snorting lines of 2cb. This is what some might call temporary medication for our excessive and perpetual boredom. I offer this bit of information without comment and certainly without recommendation.

2cb is a vaguely new drug that I guess feels like a combination of ecstasy and acid. The date rape drug, more commonly known as Rohypnol, comes in the form of a small white pad. Submerge in water—consume at your own risk. That’s what the hand-written sticker on the package said, anyway. It gets you really fucked up but it tastes like shit—sort of like makeup remover mixed with bile. I guess it’s fun, I don’t know. I’m starting to think I use drugs more as a method of achieving a state of numbness, rather than some form of cognitive enlightenment. I’m constantly trying to escape myself. I feel dazed…

“This shit makes me so fucking horny,” breathes Simon. He’s so high. Simon has a really pretty girlfriend named Scarlet, but he gets with guys sometimes. I secretly want to watch him with another boy.

“I saw a guy get his legs ripped off yesterday,” says Amy. Her face looks really pale. I mean, it’s always pale but tonight it’s REALLY pale. She kind of looks dead, but in a good way. “He was on a motorcycle and he pulled out right in front of this truck and it just fucking cut him in half. There was blood everywhere, and he was lying there on the street in two fucking pieces. And no one did anything for what seemed liked forever. Everyone just stood there, frozen. It was weirdly… cinematic.”

For hours we’ve been taking pictures of ourselves on Macbook photobooth. Before this Matthew, Bunny and I were watching Cam4—our new favorite live webcam site. After watching user S_FUN refuse to get his cock out for nearly an hour, we settled on watching some fat gay guy shit all over himself in his kitchen. It was gross and we pretended we weren’t into it but none of us looked away.

“I think it’s impossible to have a conversation on ketamine,” says Hannah, delirious. “You can be talking to someone, and they can be talking to you, but there’s no real connection. It’s just two people speaking at each other.”

Simon: “What?”

Hannah: “…oh God… I can’t even remember.”

“I can see myself committing suicide one day,” says Bunny. He’s so thin sometimes I feel like I can see through him. I don’t know, maybe I’m just fucked. “I don’t really think killing myself would be that big of a deal…”

Taking drugs with people is a shortcut to intimacy. I can fall in love with someone when I’m high in seconds. Doused with narcotics I have a difficulty distinguishing between Mr. Right and Mr. Right In Front Of Me. But, like, keep that to yourself, yeah?

I’ve been awake for a curious amount of time. I feel scary, like I’ve just been shipped back from Vietnam. This house feels like a weird scary meth lab. Last night I had a nightmare about salad. I think I’m in love with Lady Gaga. I should probably clean my room. Did Simon just give me the stink eye? And so on…